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Sunday, March 27, 2011

So before I met and married my almost-ex I had 4 holes in each ear, a belly button ring and a tongue stud.

My fav was the tongue stud. I got it when i was 19, it was really the first thing I truly did for myself, not caring what anyone thought. Especially my parents. Yes, it was my little rebellion.

I had that baby for 10 years. Then at 29 I gave birth. Going into the hospital I had to take out all my jewellery including my stud. I handed them to my husband expecting them to be returned post delivery. Silly me, thinking he would actually do it. See he hated my piercings. So 4 days later when I was coming out of my post delivery, new baby, no sleep daze I remember. He never gave me back my stud! By now it was too late as it had already grown in, so I ask him why he didn't give me back my jewelry. "I was hoping you'd forget about them". So I lost my favorite piercing, something that I was proud of, that was a part of me simply because my ex didn't like it, looking back it was not his decision to make. I have always missed it. Two years later I still go to play with the ghost of the stud, always disappointed that its not there.

Sat night I decided, screw it. Who cares if I'm 31, a mom, wear a suit to work (all reasons my ex had put into my head). I'm getting it back. So I packed up my son, called my friend and off the 3 of us went at 6 pm to get mommy some new jewelry. We went to the only place I could think of close to my house. My friend waits outside with my son because I don't know how I feel about taking him into a tattoo parlor. They were about to close but he still agreed to do it for me :) Yay! I'm a little excited now. My friend was going to take my son for a walk but he has to go pee so inside the store I take him. What a wonderful bunch of guys! They all say hi, pay attention to him, and even get him paper and pencils so he can sit up and draw at the desk with one of the artists just like he was! It was awesome.

Now it's my turn. Have I mentioned I hate needles, yes I know then why the hell am I doing this, again? Well because it was a part of me, a part I didn't make the choice to give up. So here I am lying on the table as this guy is about to stick a needle and barbell through my tongue. I start to hum (I always hum when I'm nervous or when needles are involved, I hummed the entire time I got my tattoo too). He giggles at me then "whoop" all done! That's it, 30 seconds later and we're finished. I go out front and my son and friend are sitting playing with random Lego men and things the guys could find for him. He's in heaven!

Now here I am happy and feeling more like myself than I have in years. It's really funny how something so small and insignificant seems to be tied into my finally feeling a little more like me and less like the wife I had become.